


if there’s a hell for lovers

by goldheartedsky



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Angry Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Angst and Porn, Cheating, Come as Lube, Coming Untouched, Dry Orgasm, Emotional Sex, Fisting, Hate Sex, Kinda, M/M, Men Crying, Multiple Orgasms, Nicky is engaged to a woman, Not A Fix-It, Not Canon Compliant, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29103066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldheartedsky/pseuds/goldheartedsky
Summary: Nicky and Joe share one last night together after a three year long affair comes to an end.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 39
Kudos: 77





	if there’s a hell for lovers

**Author's Note:**

> So I cranked this out in a couple hours in response to one of my Discord servers egging me on to do a fisting fic! I hope it’s raunchy enough for y’all!
> 
> Thanks to [Kaerith](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/Kaerith) for beta-ing for me!

* * *

Nicky shakes under Joe’s hands, sweat pouring down his face.

His hair sticks to his forehead and to the back of his neck and he’s far beyond catching his breath at this point. The strength in his arms gives out and he falls to his elbows—chest dragging against the rumpled sheets. His mouth falls open and he tries to croak out some semblance of Joe’s name, but nothing comes out but a trembling gasp.

Another finger slips in and he has to be at his breaking point now, Nicky is sure of it. But Joe’s grueling pace sends him plummeting back to earth.

“P-Please…” he finally manages to cry, his words failing when the older man roughly curls all four of his fingers down directly onto Nicky’s prostate. His vision whites out and Nicky isn’t sure he’s even breathing anymore.

“You’ll take what I give you,” Joe snaps, the hurt tainting his voice. “After what you’re doing to me, you don’t get to call the shots.”

It’s their last night together, though neither of them are willing to admit it. Nicky’s tuxedo hangs in the closet of the hotel room, his shoes all polished and his tie ironed, ready for his wedding tomorrow. They’ve had a good run of it—shocked that his fiancée hasn’t caught on to their three-year long affair—but as the saying goes: all good things must come to an end.

So here Nicky finds himself, already well-fucked and shaking under Joe’s perfect hands.

He can feel the come dripping around Joe’s fingers and out of his hole, trickling down his thighs, and has the thought that he wouldn’t mind having a mirror just to see how debauched his ass looks. To see how deeply Joe is taking him apart, seam by seam, inch by inch until there’s nothing left

“I hope you know how much I hate you for this,” Joe growls, punctuating every word with a thrust of his fingers. Nicky writhes and pants underneath him, feeling every sharp push of knuckles against his rim. “We could’ve been fucking _happy_ together.”

Nicky wants to apologize, wants to right whatever wrong he can, but it’s too far gone at this point. There’s no going back now.

“Elena doesn’t even love you. _I do_ , Nicky.”

“Don’t say— _ahh_ —don’t say her name,” Nicky begs as tears of overstimulation spill past his clumped eyelashes. “Please…”

“I’ll say her name whenever I fucking want to,” Joe says, pushing his hand in so hard that Nicky’s swollen rim stretches around his knuckles. “I’ll say her name because she’s the one that’s taking you away from me, because she’s the one that’s getting the only man I’ve ever loved and I hate her for it even more than I hate you.”

It breaks Nicky’s heart more than anything, knowing that he made Joe’s heart harden before his very eyes. That _he_ is the reason that this man’s wondrous heart is capable of hate.

“More,” he begs, because that’s all he can manage to say at this moment. Nicky’s hands fist the sheets, desperate for any kind of tether, and he drags his face across the bed to muffle the cries that spill from his throat. “J-Joe, need m-more.”

The fingers in his ass disappear and Nicky finds himself careening back, chasing the empty feeling that suddenly carves into his body. But Joe’s hand is back soon enough, slick and dripping with lube down his perineum as it pushes into his hole hard enough to shove Nicky forward. “I told you earlier, you’ll take what I give you,” he growls, digging his free hand into Nicky’s hips and pulling him back where Joe wants him. “You take and you take and suddenly there’s nothing left for me, is there Nicky?”

Suddenly, Nicky can feel the drag of Joe’s thumbnail over his sensitive rim, making him shudder uncontrollably. In the back of his mind, he’s aware of the way the older man’s thumb tucks in close to his palm, the unyielding push of Joe’s fist into his hole.

He opens his mouth to beg Joe to stop, to put an end to this because Nicky is suddenly so sure that his body isn’t going to be able to handle this, when his rim stretches sharply around the widest part of Joe’s hand and everything goes quiet. Nicky gulps oxygen like he’s drowning—breath coming in half-pulled gasps. His back arches as his chest drops to the bed, nothing but Joe’s hands holding him up now.

He’s too far gone.

Maybe he always has been.

Joe’s hand stills inside him, so deep it feels like he’s touching Nicky’s very soul, and the hand on the outside of his body digs so hard into his hip that Nicky can feel Joe leave crescent moon shaped marks in his skin. “You wanted this,” Joe says, breathing heavily as if he was the one getting so terribly fucked. “Just remember, you _wanted_ this.”

Nicky isn’t sure if Joe is talking about the wedding tomorrow or the fist up his ass.

The first ruined, rattling cry punches out of his chest as Joe’s fingers curl inside him and form a fist. It’s so big— _too big_ —and Nicky isn’t sure if he’s going to last for as long as Joe forces him to. The fist inside him shifts, rubbing directly over his prostate and his cries turn into desperate sobs.

Joe’s fist tugs against his rim for a white-hot moment before it punches back inside him, bearing Nicky into the mattress. “I want you to remember me, remember this, in every step you take down that fucking aisle tomorrow.”

There are tears echoing in his voice and Nicky is entirely at his mercy now. He can’t offer any amelioration at this point, but he’ll let Joe take whatever he wants as retribution.

The world tilts on an axis as Joe fucks his fist deep into his body—so deep Nicky can almost taste it in the back of his throat. He can feel it in his stomach, the push of the older man’s hand against his abdomen. He can’t breathe, he can’t think, can’t do anything but let the punched-out sobs be forced with his body with every thrust of Joe’s fist.

“Do you even know what you’ve done to me?” Joe snarls, Nicky’s rim pulling at his knuckles as he forces the widest part of his hand in and out of the Italian’s body in quick succession. “Do you even fucking _care_ , Nicky?”

His hand pulls free and, for a split second, Nicky is able to suck a heavy breath into his aching lungs. But the moment is lost as Joe drives his fist back into his gaping hole without a second thought.

Nicky’s entire body trembles with the force, his orgasm building so fast that it feels like a wildfire. He’s come twice already and Nicky isn’t sure that he’s going to be able to come again, though he’s sure Joe is going to force one out of him whether he likes it or not. Joe’s knuckles slam into his swollen prostate over and over again until it’s no longer a possibility, but the inevitable.

“Pl…J…Ple…”

“No, you don’t _get_ to fucking beg,” Joe chokes, the hand on his hip moving north to twist in his hair, shoving Nicky’s face into the mattress. “Not after how much pleading I’ve done with you.”

Maybe it’s the way Joe’s fist digs relentlessly against that aching spot inside his body. Maybe it’s the fact that Nicky can barely breathe, face pressed into the sheets. Maybe it’s the crushing weight of everything that is going to happen the moment this is over finally bearing down on him. Maybe it’s the fact that Nicky is still so hopelessly in love with Joe, even after all this.

Whatever it is, it’s enough to tip him over the edge—his orgasm burning through him completely dry. Nicky whimpers and sobs and twitches around Joe’s hand, desperate for any kind of relief as his cock throbs weakly.

But there’s none to be found.

Not without tender kisses, without the poetry whispered in his ear. There’s no payoff, no satisfaction without the glowing weight of Joe’s devotion bearing him down. In the three years they’ve found themselves together, Nicky has never been so loved. Now, because of his choices, that love has turned to ash and he gets _nothing_. Nothing but the punishing reminder of what could have been.

He expects Joe to stop, to pull his hand free, but the other man does no such thing.

“No, you don’t get out of this that easy,” Joe says, voice trembling as badly as Nicky knows his own body is. “If I get nothing after this, I want all of it right now. I want you to give me _everything_.”

The sheets underneath his face are soaked in tears and spit and there’s no time to even catch his breath before his second orgasm in under a minute hits him like a speeding train. Nicky’s vision blacks out and some animalistic, guttural noise tears from deep inside his body, spurred on by Joe’s relentless fist.

He comes back in pieces.

First, blinking his eyes open and watching the door of the hotel room spins in wide circles. Then, when Nicky’s body goes hollow and empty, Joe’s hand pulling out of him carelessly. And finally, when he feels the hot spurts of Joe’s come painting his fucked-out hole. He’s too worn out—too exhausted to clench at the feeling—and Nicky just lets himself sink into the mattress, open and used.

As his heavy breathing slows, Nicky can hear Joe’s begin to stutter. It starts as a rolling tremor until the first muffled sob echoes in the quiet room.

Nicky pushes himself up on shaky arms, wincing as he shifts, and stares at the wide expanse of Joe’s back. The older man’s shoulders are hunched, his still-slick hand braced on the edge of the bed as his other covers his face. Joe flinches when Nicky reaches a trembling hand out and brushes his fingertips over his shoulder. “ _Don’t_ ,” he spits.

“Joe…”

“I said don’t!” Joe snaps, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed in tears as he glares over his shoulder. “You don’t get to touch me like that, not now.”

Nicky’s stomach aches and he knows it’s not just from what his body just went through. “Joe, I—” His voice fails him and every word he knows seems caught in his throat. He glances at the garment bag in the closet and sighs. “I’m sorry,” he finally says, after a long and heavy pause. “Really, I am.”

“Sorry isn’t going to stop you from marrying Elena tomorrow, now _is_ it?”

He shakes his head, heart turning sour in his chest. “No, it isn’t.” Nicky reaches his hand out again and, this time, Joe doesn’t pull away at his touch. Only sags into it, dark lashes fluttering like Nicky’s skin is a drug that he needs just one more hit of. Joe’s brows knit together and his jaw clenches tight as Nicky whispers, “But we still have tonight.”

A single tear rolls down Joe’s freckled cheek as he gives in dejectedly. “We still have tonight.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you just need some angst in your fisting porn and I regret nothing!!
> 
> Thanks for reading!!!


End file.
